by Cherry Adair
His sat phone vibrated against his chest just as he turned to go back down. He paused to take the small phone from his breast pocket. "Talk to me."
"Elevated to code three," Darius, his control, said briskly, sounding as though he were standing right there on the breeze-swept hillside beside Derek. More than an alert, T-FLAC was now taking the Alaskan terror threat to the next level.
"Four w's?" Derek asked Darius as he continued walking, indicating who, where, what, when. He slung the strap of his rifle over his shoulder, but kept the Baer firmly in his left hand. He hastened his steps. For all he knew the killer would double back and show up at the camp in the valley below. And while he knew Lily and the men with her all carried weapons, he would be a hell of a lot more confident if he was there with her himself.
"The who is Oslukivati," Darius told him. "All we have right now is that they've been sighted in your neck of the woods."
Oslukivati was a Serb group known for their expertise with dirty bombs. They particularly enjoyed blowing things up. They'd blown up the Zimbabwe airport at high noon on a Friday before a holiday weekend, killing several thousand people. They were responsible for the bombing of the South African consulate in London and the total destruction of a train station in Prague. Usually they wanted their people freed from some prison somewhere. But in most cases, it would take years to track down and round up the prisoners, and they were some of the most dangerous tangos on the planet. Their freedom was nonnegotiable.
"What are their demands?" Not that Derek gave a fuck, but he was mildly interested to know.
"Haven't made any. Yet."
Unnecessary, but a given: Whatever they wanted, they wouldn't get.
It would now be a race to see who won before something went up with a big, spectacular bang and hundreds of people died.
"Alaska Pipeline?" Derek asked, interest sparking. He thrived on the chase. God only knew, he was already on the most important one of his life. A terrorist warning would be the whipped cream on his sundae. There was an outside chance that the two were interconnected. But he doubted it. Very few people knew he worked for the anti-terrorist group.
"No," Darius said in his ear. "Not even in the neighborhood of the pipeline. Word is something bigger, with more of an 'Oh my God' factor. Your old pal Milos Pekovic is up to his ass in this one. Personally."
Pekovic. Just the bastard's name made the scar over Derek's kidney ache. The terrorist's group was large and far-reaching. Derek's most recent run-in with Pekovic had been seven months and almost one lost kidney ago in San Cristobal. The man liked to be hands-on, and he enjoyed getting his hands dirty. It was a wonder he ever got the blood off. The terrorist was brutal, soulless and unstoppable. Known as the Butcher because that had been his profession before he started amassing large groups of rabid followers to his cause. Milos Pekovic and Derek had been dancing around each other for nine years. And they both had the scars to prove it.
Derek didn't flatter himself that the leader of one of the top-five terrorist groups was up here in Alaska just for him. But he bet if Pekovic knew he was here, it would add that extra fillip to whatever the hell the man was hell-bent on doing.
Their association had long ago gone from business to personal.
Off the top of his head, Derek couldn't think of a damn thing the terrorist group would want to annihilate way the hell up here in Alaska. If not the pipeline, then what? "My neck of the woods is pretty damn vast at the moment. Can we pinpoint a location?" he asked Darius as he followed his own tracks back to camp.
"Working on it."
"Timing?"
"Imminent."
"Jesus, Dare, you're not exactly a mine of information, are you?"
"We're sending your brothers to the wedding a bit early, with a detour to you. By the time we've gathered all the intel, they'll be there to have your back."
"Nice to know," Derek said dryly. Since Michael, Kyle, and his twin, Kane, were coming at the end of the month anyway, they'd get a free trip. Not that any of them needed it. Since they all worked for the anti-terrorist organization, they'd covered one another's backs on several assignments. Derek was pleased at the news.
"Intel is on this twenty-four/seven," Dare told him. "Keep you posted."
"Anything else?"
"Not yet."
He'd have to be satisfied with the nebulous threat. For now. He quickly filled Dare in on the shooter and the current situation.
"Doesn't sound like your pal Pekovic."
"The knife business gave me pause. But Pekovic is more controlled. He likes to get up close and personal with his kills. This was done with relish, but not with Pekovic's attention to detail." Pekovic better not come within a thousand miles of Lily, Derek thought grimly.
"Watch your back." Dare concurred with Derek's assessment of the situation.
They concluded the call, and Derek continued down to camp, feeling a sense of urgency now that he knew his archenemy was somewhere in Alaska. Big state, but at the moment, not nearly big enough when Lily was in the same neck of the woods. Couple that with a vindictive killer and it was a recipe for gut-wrenching worry.
This damn sniper thing bothered him. It just didn't make any kind of sense.
He'd report the incident at the next checkpoint, and warn other mushers that someone was up here taking target practice on the trail.
As for Lily, Derek promised himself, he'd be keeping a tight rein on her. Whether she liked it or not.
"I bet the little boogers were long gone, weren't they?" Lily rose from behind a fallen log. Clicking on the safety, she put the nine-millimeter she'd been holding back into her pocket. Derek was pleased to see that not only was she armed, she'd positioned herself with her back against a broad tree with an unimpeded view of the clearing.
"Didn't see anything." His gaze swept the snow-laden landscape around them.
"Couldn't have been kids," Lily muttered, more to herself than to him. "Locals are smarter than to hunt so close to the race trail."
"Definitely not kids," he said, handing her her hat, which he'd picked up on the way back. "They'd've left tracks."
His gaze shifted to the worry-etched lines between her brows and he could have kicked himself. But if she hadn't already thought of everything he'd just said, she soon would have. Stupid, she wasn't.
Her cheeks were pink and shiny with cold, which made her long-lashed hazel eyes brilliant in contrast. She looked like a poster girl for the benefits of outdoor living. Healthy and natural. Beautiful in a subtle, understated way that made his mouth water and his heart do calisthenics whenever he saw her.
Every time he saw her, whether a month or an hour ago, he always experienced the same punch to the gut.
"Thanks for this. My ears are frozen." She tugged on the hat. The soft gray and white fur framed her face, and the silky length of her honey-brown braid fell over the front of her thick coat. He'd had some intense dreams about that spill of rich pale brown hair gliding across his naked body. The anticipation might very well kill him.
He dragged his attention away from her. Both sleds were neatly packed, the dogs ready to go. Nobody else was in the clearing. Fury, not far from the surface for the past several hours, rose up inside him.
"Where," he said dangerously, remembering that her coat had two freaking damn bullet holes in it, "are the others?"
Oblivious, Lily poured a steaming mug of coffee from a Thermos and handed it to him. He took it with a frown. "I told the men to stay here until I got back."
"I believe the general consensus was that they don't work for you."
"You were shot at," he reminded her.
"They missed," she reminded him. "Besides, I have Wayne here," she said mildly, patting her pocket and the nine-millimeter she'd tucked inside. "I told them they might as well get a jump-start on us." She drank from her own cup, then cocked her head. "You said yourself you didn't find anyone out there, right?"
"That's beside the point." He wasn't going to tell her about C
roft. No point scaring her just now. "And they weren't privy to that information." Jesus—he pulled his temper back a couple of notches. It was futile getting pissed. The three men were relative strangers and, as Lily had pointed out, not under his command. Still, they didn't know if the shooter would double back and use Lily for target practice again. He'd thought Don Singleton at least would stick to Lily like glue.
"Most likely some stray jerk trying to make trouble for the racers," Derek lied. He wasn't going to lose sleep over Croft.
A flash of fear backlit her expressive eyes, quickly masked as she went back to sipping her coffee. "We'll keep an ear and eye out for them just in case, and report them, him, at Finger Lake."
Damn it. She shouldn't have to be afraid. Ever.
"I see you're ready to go," he said briskly, tamping down an unfamiliar and toxic combination of fear and worry. Darius was looking into the Croft situation, as well as his possible killer; in the meantime he would stick to Lily like oil on a gun barrel. "I'm surprised you didn't take off ahead of me."
Lily made a rude noise. "Oh, please, like I'd have to cheat to beat you."
"No. You wouldn't cheat, would you, Lily?" He walked over and cupped her cheek. Her skin felt icy cold under his hand. They were close enough for their breath to touch in the frigid air.
She licked her lower lip, a smooth, sensual swipe of her tongue that was totally without guile, but that sent a spurt of fire to his groin.
"Don't be too nice to me right now." Her voice was husky, her pupils large as she stared up at him. The fact that she wasn't backing up as she usually did when he got this close was a gift.
He stroked her cheek with his thumb, a light, controlled caress when what he needed was to pull her hard against him and crush her mouth under his. He brushed her smooth skin again and took pleasure in watching heat seep into her cheeks as her eyes started losing focus.
"Why not?" he asked.
She gave a small frown, as though she'd just now realized they were standing a breath apart and he was caressing her face. But she didn't move away. Instead she shot him a familiar I-know-what-you're-doing-and-it-doesn't-affect-me-in-the-least look.
Except when their eyes met, they clung, and that brief glance sizzled with electricity. They stood staring at each other, breath visibly commingling in the cold air. "I've had enough of an adrenaline rush for the day," Lily told him, and there was a faint tremor in her voice.
Oh, he couldn't resist that challenge. He used both hands to cup her face and took no satisfaction at her small jolt of surprise. He bent his head and kissed her. A sweet, drugging kiss. Not too much tongue, just enough to have hers come out tentatively to play. She tasted of coffee and winter-fresh toothpaste.
He'd kissed her harder and longer that night he'd taken her to dinner and a movie all those years ago. It had been summer, and as busy as he'd been on the ranch, he'd made time to see her. She'd worn a pale mint-green sundress, her tanned, toned arms and legs bare. Just seeing her feet bare, in strappy sandals, for the first time had given him an uncomfortable hard-on. He'd pressed her against his car out in the parking lot of the movie theater like a randy teenager. She'd given just as good as she got. Wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing herself flush against him, she'd given him tongue and with a little time, she would've given him her body.
Instead she'd avoided his calls for days and then gone out with his best friend.
No. This time he was going to pace himself. Give her time. He lifted his head using every ounce of control he possessed.
"I hope you appreciate my restraint," he said gently, dropping one more feather-light brush to her mouth before she could say anything. Then he gently took her shoulders and gave her a little push toward her waiting sled.
Without looking back, Lily stalked off, but not before he saw the bewilderment, desire and conflict play across her expressive face after he'd kissed her.
He laughed ruefully to himself as he mounted his own sled. It was going to be a battle, but hell, he'd fought harder wars and won. And this time, the battle was all-important.
"Hike!" they said in unison, and their teams lit out of the clearing as if jet propelled. Neck and neck.
Derek laughed with satisfaction as Lily streaked off ahead of him. "Frustrated and confused is just the way I want to keep you, sweetheart," he told her retreating back. "Frustrated and confused."
Lily glanced up at the low clouds overhead. It looked like more snow. She'd made good time, leaving Finger Lake early enough in the day to travel the worst parts of the trail in the daylight. Going over the ridge to Red Lake, then continuing on to Rainy Pass was always extraordinarily difficult. Traveling it in the daylight, such as it was, was difficult enough. She sure as hell didn't want to do it at night. Not when the trail climbed wooded shelves interspersed with patches of muddy levy and decaying foliage.
After that, there'd be a steep drop down to a series of forested benches toward Happy River, then onto the frozen river itself via the dreaded Happy River steps. It was going to be another long day.
Right now it looked more like dusk than noon. The dogs liked the weather well enough, though. For them, twenty below was just right.
"How're you doing, Doc?" Derek asked in her ear. It was strangely intimate, listening and talking to him without being face-to-face. It was actually quite nice having company on the run. She usually listened to music, but enjoyed hours of solitude as well. Having someone to share what she was seeing on the trail was… nice.
Though they might allow an hour or so of silence, there was something immensely comforting knowing Derek was never more than a whisper away. Then he'd break the silence to point out an obstacle to watch for, or tell her to look to the right at the next bend to see a bird's nest at eye level.
It pleased her that he wasn't hesitant to ask for her advice when he needed it. He'd only run two races, and she was more experienced. At least in this instance. He'd put on a good burst of speed after the last stop, and was ahead of her by about fifteen minutes. Not much. She'd catch up and then wave to him over her shoulder as she passed him.
Lily had taken a precious twenty minutes to shower and put on fresh clothing at the last stop. Some people stayed unshowered for the entire race. She wasn't one of them. She didn't mind getting dirty, but she had a big problem with being dirty. Apparently so did Derek. She'd learned he'd been in the shower just ahead of her. As if she needed to be told. She had recognized the signature scent of his soap and the hint of his shaving cream the instant she'd stepped inside the makeshift stall.
It was amazing and more than a little disconcerting to realize just how familiar he was to her—how many intimate details regarding him were stored without authorization in her consciousness.
Odd that she couldn't summon a single intimate memory of her late husband but she had a vivid catalog of her awareness of Derek. She didn't even need to close her eyes to remember the feel of his hands on her body.
She gave herself a mental slap and came back to reality. He was staying just ahead of her all the way. Annoying man. She needed to catch up and pass him soon.
"I had to leave Ajax at the food drop," she told him absently, keeping an eye out for… anything. Still a little spooked by the shooting that morning, she constantly had the sensation of being watched. Even though she'd convinced herself the hunter, or whoever, wouldn't be following the Iditarod trail, a small corner of her mind worried. When she'd stopped to check the dogs earlier she'd been tense the entire time, waiting for the someone to start taking potshots again.
Nothing had happened. Of course it hadn't. She felt a little silly for her paranoia. But a spot between her shoulder blades continued to itch, so paranoid or not, she kept her nine-millimeter within easy reach. She'd also removed her rifle from the scabbard in the sled, and kept it close at hand. Better safe than sorry.
"The dog okay?" Derek asked, his voice a low rumble in her ear.
"He will be."
Ajax had somehow managed to
tear a nail and had been limping badly. Glad she'd stopped, Lily had loaded him into the sled and dropped him at the next checkpoint. He'd be flown back to Anchorage. People had won the race with fewer dogs, but Rio was as dependable as the sunrise and had a strong back and a determination to one day be lead dog, Lily could tell. Just as she knew her lead dog Arrow had a thing for Derek's lead dog Max. The animals were always nuzzling each other and had even slept curled beside each other last night. Maybe they were in love. She laughed at herself. Lust was more like it. Max and Derek had that much in common.
"What?" Derek's voice sounded smoky and intimate, and almost right inside her head.
She'd forgotten he could hear her. "Dad always complains because I anthropomorphize—if that's even a word—the dogs."
"Since you practically live with them, I don't think it's strange you give them human characteristics," Derek said easily. "You probably know them better than you do most humans."
"I like them better most of the time, too," Lily told him dryly. She narrowed her eyes. Was Opal limping now too? She'd keep an eye on her for another mile or two.
"Is that why you became a vet?"
Lily smiled. "That and all the money I make." What she earned had always been a joke to Sean. He'd told her she'd earn more waiting tables at the Dipsy Diner on Main Street. Their county wasn't big enough to support three full-time veterinarians.
Still, she loved what she did. Matt and her dad actually handled everything but the Flying F. The ranch, and the breeding and training of her dogs, kept Lily busy. Her marrying Sean had worked for all of them. She'd supervised the breeding program to increase the herd. In fact, she'd named Diablo when Sean and Derek had brought the vicious-looking, three-and-a-half-million-dollar bull home. She'd had to authenticate every vial of Diablo's sperm that sold. Clearly Sean had forged her signature on the fake vials.
Of course she hadn't known anything then. Other than she'd found Prince Charming, he adored her and she was going to marry him. She'd loved the way he teased her, and the way his brown eyes warmed when he was with her. She'd loved his flirting and the way he made her feel like a woman, even when she was dressed in jeans and work boots.